That Day
by RandomPerson164
Summary: "If I had to pick a day for my life to change forever, it would not have been that day." They were hoping to get one day - just one - to themselves. Little did they know, America and the rest of the Hetalia gang were going to change that. (Collab between moi, malta-chan765, & IRL friend.)
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello, and welcome to That Day! This story is a collaboration between me, malta-chan765, and our IRL friend Andorra. I don't exactly remember how this came along. All that I remember is meeting with Malta-chan and trying to iron out some of the details for later on in the plot. Anyway, we're taking turns writing these chapters, so if you detect differences in writing styles, that's why. The prologue is here thanks to Malta-chan. (By the way, she totally has the right to put this on here as her story too. She is writing a third of this, anyway.)  
Enough talk. Enjoy~! Don't forget to favorite/review, and check out Malta-chan's stories too!**

_**That Day**_

_**Prologue**_

Every pew was empty in the old church. Every pew except one where three young girls stood. Not many could guess why they were standing there like zombies for it was about 2:35 in the morning; well, 2:35 in the morning of the digital clock hung on the back wall presented the correct time. Each of the three girls wore itchy black dresses and onyx heels that had no possible way to be comfortable, and their hair was let down to cover their faces.

The smallest of the females had straight, light brown hair and hazel eyes that glittered from tears that had been pouring down her face. She wasn't very tall, so she couldn't have been over 13 years of age. Same with the two girls next to her; although, they were a bit taller. The girl in the middle had wavy hair that was a shade darker than the first girl's, and the last female had straight blond hair and blue eyes.

"Should we go now?" The first girl finally asked.

The blonde hesitantly nodded, "Yes, we should."

"Let's go somewhere else, though. It won't do any good to stay in Nashville," the middle teen decided.

"Where will be go?" Te oldest queried.

"New York," the girl replied, "We can make a loving there together."

"And we can ride on a train to get there!" The youngest smiled.

"Okay, then that is settled. Let's go now," the oldest began shuffling out of the church, tripping every so often over her shoes.

-x-

Just hours later, they were all boarded on the back of the train, each sitting in different corners of te box car. The youngest of the trio, Maria was lounging by the edge of the car looking down and watching the ground rush past.

"Maria, get away from the edge. You'll fall off," the brunette, Lara chastised.

Ćerima, the blonde nodded in agreement, "Yes, we don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't fall off," Maria complained, "See? I'm leaning off the edge while waving my hetalia manga around. Nothing will happe-"

Maria cut herself off and a shriek escaped her lips as te book she was holding slipped from her grasp. Horrified, she watched as it flew under the wheels of the train and disappeared from her sight forever.


	2. Chapter 1: Ćerima – How it All Started

_**Chapter One: Ćerima – How it All Started**_

If I had to pick a day for my life to change forever, it would not have been that day.

**Why not that day? I think it was a nice day for change. They just went about it the wrong way, with all –**

Hush, Maria. We do not want to spoil everything before we start.

**Fine, go on then.**

Thank you. Ahem… If I had to pick a day for my life to change forever, it would not have been that day.

That day started just like any other. It was in early autumn, early enough for there to be a slight chill without the snow. Sunlight constantly streamed through the dingy windows of our plain three-bedroom apartment. It was a Saturday, because by afternoon we were not completely drained of energy. It was a cherished lazy day for all of us – there were no jobs, no school, just sitting around at home finishing what had to be done. I was sitting on the lonely striped couch in the middle of our tiny living room, sifting through bills with my name – _Ćerima Zivkovic_ – emblazoned in bold letters on the envelopes. My sisters were in their respective rooms at the time; Maria was writing a story for a college entrance paper, I believe, and Lara was probably trying to redesign her room yet again.

Well, they are not my real sisters. In reality, we are not related at all. However, all being orphaned at a young age and living together for the majority of our lives, our bond is closer than that of any true sisters. No matter what, Maria Portelli and Lara Villanueva will always be my family, and I would do just about anything for them.

…I am getting off topic. Where was I? Oh yes, that day. I remember worrying about the bills a little too much. The price of rent kept steadily rising, along with food cost nearly everywhere I looked. _At this rate, I will have to start dipping into my college funds…_ There was no way I was letting Maria or Lara skip out on college. They may have been only a few months younger than me – they were 17 at the time, and I was barely 18 – but one of us had to take charge, and I was the most serious out of all of us.

I discarded the depressing papers onto the coffee table beside the couch and traded them for a book. Rent was not due for another week and a half, so it was okay to leave it alone for the time being. Instead, I attempted calming my nerves with the well-worn copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ scored at a library sale. It always helped me forget about the circumstances just for a little while. I remember turning a page, suddenly noticing my thirst, and putting the book down to get myself a glass of water. I heard something coming from Maria's room. I could not describe that sound, but it went away before I could ask about it, so I left it alone.

Maria heard it. She must have seen it too, because she flew out of her room and shouted in a frightened tone, "The wall's bubbling!"

For a moment I just stood there, unsure of how to respond. As far as I knew, walls couldn't bubble – not on their own, anyway. "…Bubbling? Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Maria was ducked behind the couch now, using the furniture as a makeshift barrier to separate herself from the "bubbling" wall. "I saw it myself! It was –"

_THUD._

I knew the sound of bodies against drywall when I heard it. I always used to hear it when we first got this apartment, when my sisters and I were still clumsy little kids. I only had a moment to think about the sudden noise, though, before Lara darted out of her own room. She nearly tripped over her feet when she skidded around me, a panicked expression similar to Maria's across her face. "…There's…a _hole_…in my _wall_!"

Considering the strange circumstances – the bubbling wall, the strange noise coming from the bathroom between my sisters' rooms, the spontaneously collapsing wall – I did the only thing I could think of doing. I grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen and stalked toward the closed bathroom door. My sisters were hiding behind the couch, so whatever it was wouldn't hurt them if it decided to attack me. _Good decision_, I thought briefly, before gently grabbing the door knob and throwing it to the side, raising my frying pan above my head as I glared in the general direction of the intruder.

To say that I was not prepared for the realization would have been an understatement.

I do not think that in all my life I could have even dreamed this could be happening. A young man our age with dusty blonde hair and bright blue eyes was sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor, rubbing the back of his head crossly. A pair of plain silver glasses perched at the end of his nose, and over his shoulders was a brown bomber jacket with a large yellow star over his heart. For some reason, that jacket gave me the strangest feeling of déjà vu, although I could not quite remember where it was from…

His gaze turned up toward me and I saw the momentary shock and confusion in his eyes. He must have pushed them back, because the next thing I knew he was standing and giving me an _I-know-everything_ sort of grin. "Hey," he stated casually, as if we were passing on the street instead of inside of my home. "How's it goin'?"

Finally realizing that I was staring, I raised the heavy end of my frying pan so that it was level with the intruder's face. I could hear Maria and Lara gasp from behind me, but I ignored it. "W-who are you? What are you doing in our house?"

"'Our?'" The intruder glanced past my shoulder. He must have seen my sisters, because a faint look of understanding slid across his face. "Oh. …Wait a second. Who the heck are you?"

"I asked first. _Who are you_?!" I was getting angry, and anyone who knows me (a small amount of people) knows that I am not a good person to make angry.

"Canada!" Chuckles from the other side of the couch. I could hardly remember what my sisters meant when they made references like that anymore. I had been too stressed to think about things like their old books and such. Obviously the intruder understood though, because he visually perked up.

"Whoa, seriously? You guys know Canadia?!" Just like that, he pushed past me, totally ignoring the fact that I could have dented or broken his skull with one swing of my frying pan – if I had not been so confused, that is.

"Well, we know who he is…" Maria could barely contain her squeals of fangirlishness.

Lara decided to finish Maria's sentence for her, resting her elbows on the top edge of the couch as if everything was completely normal. "…but we've never personally met him."

The intruder paused in the center of the living room for a moment, considered my sister's comment, then shrugged dismissively. "Well that's good enough for me! Hey, where do you keep your food?"

The word _food_ instantly made me feel uneasy. I stepped in front of the intruder, effectively blocking his path to the kitchen, and glanced between him and the girls on the couch. "…_Who_ are you? Who _is_ he? Who are _you_?!"

"I'm America," he shouted proudly, giving me another one of those airheaded grins and striking a "hero" pose. With that, he swerved around me and dove for our tiny fridge, removing a pint of ice cream from it before looking directly at Maria and Lara. "So," he started as he shoved a spoon into the frozen dessert, "where am I anyway?"

I could not move. I was shocked at how much senselessness this man – if he really is America – had to just barge into our home like that, start chatting with us, and then proceed to eat all of our ice cream. _My_ ice cream. "…That is my ice cream," I muttered softly, but no one took notice.

"…New York?" Lara sounded just as confused as I felt. "How could you not know where you are? …Are you lost or something?"

In response, Maria elbowed Lara in the ribs, snickering all the while. "He's America, remember? Heroes never get lost! …He probably just came from the Hetalia universe!"

"Huh?" America had smears of light green across his face. Mint chocolate chip. That was all that was left of the ice cream. _My_ ice cream. "What's _Hetalia_? Oh, thanks for the ice cream, by the way." He tossed the empty carton into the trash can and started wandering the apartment again.

_He ate my ice cream._ I dropped my frying pan on the counter. _I was saving that ice cream! It was supposed to be special!_

"Here, let me show you!" Maria hopped off of the couch and was about to start dragging America into her room when he swerved away and poked his head through the doorway of my bedroom.

"So dudes, can I sleep in here? There was this super-long meeting earlier, and I'm pooped." America didn't bother waiting on an answer before plopping down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with that same clueless look in his eyes. No one bothered to tell him off, though. Even though he was uninvited, he was still a guest. Even if he is a guest that steals people's beds without permission.

Once again, I was driven to silence. "…That is my bed… He stole my bed…"

And that was how I found myself getting into a sleeping bag on the couch instead of my own bed when the time came that night. I was still not sure how that had happened at the time, but I knew one thing for sure: _This is going to be a long week…\_

**A/N: This chapter written by the awesome RandomPerson164. :D**


	3. Chapter 2: Lara – Sleeping on the Couch

_**Chapter Two: Lara – Sleeping on the Couch**_

Alfred F. Jones is in our apartment. Alfred F. Jones is in our apartment. Alfred F. Jones is in our apartment.

"Hetaliaaaaaaaa!"

I jumped , shaken out of my daze. "Mein Gott, Maria! Don't do things like that! You're lucky I didn't break your face!"

"Stop yelling at me."

"Then don't shake me out of a trance by screaming."

"What is going on?"

"Lara was all tranced out, so I snapped her out of it. It was hilarious; you should have seen it, Ćerima!"

"You little –"

I was silenced by a loud banging and America asking if we had any more ice cream. Ćerima's face turned red. I extended my hand and pocketed the dollar bill that Maria slapped onto my outstretched palm.

"What is that now, ten dollars? You really should have learned not to make bets with me," I whispered as Ćerima started off to her former room to read America the riot act.

"Stop making bets!" Ćerima shouted over her shoulder.

"Party pooper. Anyway, I'll be in my room redesigning my wall…again."

I stepped into my room and picked up the picture that had fallen to the ground. It was the three of us, smiling, at Disney World, standing in front of our parents.

"Guess it isn't really the place where dreams come true," I mumbled.

Just as I had set the picture on the wall, I heard Ćerima slam her door and yell for Maris and I to meet her in the kitchen. I dashed out to the kitchen and met a very red-faced Ćerima.

"There is some way to get rid of him, is there not?"

"Ćerima,_ pleeease_!" Maria pleaded.

"Yeah Ćerima, we have dreamed of this ever since we got hooked on it."

"…Fine, but he has to sleep on the couch," Ćerima finally said. "Do not let me regret this."

"Thanks, Ćerima!" we said in unison.

"Good luck getting him to sleep on the couch," I whispered on the way back to my room.

The next morning, I woke up and stretched, accidentally knocking a plush unicorn off my night stand. It hit the floor with a loud _bang_ that shook my wall. _Odd_, I thought as I opened the bathroom door to brush my teeth. I yelled for the others the moment I saw who lay sprawled on the floor.

Ćerima made it first, having slept on the couch, much to her chagrin. She gasped as a brown-haired boy pushed himself up and spoke.

"Where is that hamburger loving b?!"

**A/N: This chapter written by the awesomeness that is our IRL friend Andorra. ;)**


	4. Chapter 3: Maria – Awesome Cushion

_**Chapter Three: Maria – Awesome Cushion**_

"Romano?" I stared in awe at the southern Italian. I had arrived to the scene shortly after Ćerima, who was now glowering down where our newcomer was, and I wasn't sure whether to be glad that my second favorite Hetalia character was in our apartment, or mad that he was cussing and ruining the bathroom wall that we had just recently repaired.

Romano glared up at me. "How do you know my name? You aren't a stalker like France, are you?"

"No, I am not a stalker like France," Lara hissed.

"Hey, who are you talking to?" America then made his appearance. "Oh, it's Romano! Did you fall through the mirror too?"

"Yes, you retardo!" Romano stiffened.

America simply laughed. "Well don't worry! The hero is here too! I'll help you get out of this dump!"

"No, you won't!" Romano snapped.

"Can you two please stop fighting?" Ćerima sighed. "I really think we could get more done if you both got along."

"And our place isn't a_ dump_. It's all we have," I added.

Romano took one glance up at us and calmed down a little. "Fine, but how will we get back?"

"If we knew that, then _that thing_ wouldn't be here." Lara put emphasis on _that thing_ as she pointed to America.

"Don't be mean," I chastised as I held my arm out. I figured Romano probably needed help getting up, since he hadn't done so already. Almost to my surprise, he took my hand and used it to pull himself to his feet, but, to no surprise, he only thanked me with a quiet "grazie" and pushed past us to discover the rest of the apartment. He looked around for a while as we watched from the bathroom doorway, and eventually he migrated to the couch and sat down.

Ćerima leaned against the doorway. "I just hope he does not steal any food like America did."

"If there is any food to steal," I snorted. "I'll have to go to the grocery store tomorrow on my way home from work."

"Work," Lara muttered bitterly. I could tell she didn't want to go back to Walmart, where she worked two shifts every day at the cash register. I myself worked from eight to three at Starbucks, and it's not as good as it seems. I never get discounts and only once or twice a month do I get a free lunch there. Ćerima is the luckiest – she works at Chick-fil-A and brings dinner home to us every Friday night. The manager there is nice. I think his name is Steve.

"I will go check ad see what we have," Ćerima decided and stalked off.

"And I'm going to take a shower." I turned back to the bathroom and strode inside.

That was when it happened.

Yeah, and it happened on me.

I was casually walking into the bathroom, when, what do you know, someone decided that now was the perfect time to jump through the mirror. Oh, and they landed on me. Talk about perfect timing.

Next thing I knew, I found myself on the floor with someone on me.

"Awesome cushion." It didn't take anymore than just that small sentence for me to figure out that Prussia was the one who had fallen on me.

I squeaked, trying to say something, but I couldn't. In turn, Prussia laughed at me.

"Is my sexy awesomeness rendering you speechless?" Prussia smirked.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell him that he was my all time favorite Hetalia character, but I just pushed him away. "No, I'm fine. I'm just not used to people falling through mirrors and landing on me, okay?"

"Oh. My awesomeness was on you, wasn't it?" Kesesese!" Prussia lifted himself off of me. At this point, Ćerima had returned, and Lara had flipped the light on with a slight bemused look.

Ćerima glared at Prussia. "Please do not fall on my friend."

"I didn't mean to! Mein Gott, you are treating me as if I jumped on…on…" Prussia glanced back at me.

Still dazed, I said, "Maria."

"Maria. I did not jump on Maria." Prussia continued, "I _fell_ on her. And, with all awesomeness, she was the unawesome one in my way, not I to her."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you here," Lara grinned.

I grabbed a piece of drywall and chucked it at her. "Hey!"

"Sorry," Lara dodged the chunk while trying (failing too, I might add) to sustain snorts of laughter, "but I had to say it."

"Okay. Maybe it was funny, although I hope you drink some of the water and choke on it. Maybe even on purpose!" I shot back at Lara, a smirk on my face. Then she started muttering under her breath, which sent me running over to the shower and hiding behind the kitchen while screaming, "Please don't kill me! I didn't mean it, I promise!"

Prussia looked at me weird, then he turned to the doorway. "I think I'm going to find a place to sleep. I'm kind of tired."

"Don't take my room," I warned, but it was too late. Prussia was headed straight for my room with no signs of turning away.

"Hey guys, where's the rest of the food? Also, why would someone choke on water on purpose?" America poked his head in again, confusion and puzzlement lighting his face.

"I guess that makes two of us in the living room," I commented.

Ćerima turned to America. "The ice cream is in your stomach, and the water is just a joke."

"Oh." America glanced down at his stomach, expecting to see something edible. "Man! I need to lose some weight!"

I sighed. Two days, and already we had three Hetalia characters in our house. Who next?

-x-

I awoke to someone poking my face and mumbling something about breakfast, cable, and outside.

"Go away," I mumbled and swatted at the person.

That person leaped back and revealed himself to be America. "Dude, you slept in late! It's already seven am. Your friends both left an hour ago."

"Crap! I'm going to be late for work!" I fell off the couch, scrambled to my feet, and ran to my room to get changed. Just as I barged into my room, I remembered Prussia was still sleeping on my bed, so I slunk past him and slid into my closet. My work clothes were hanging in front of me, and I grabbed them and bean to get dressed. I could have finished quickly too, if Prussia hadn't decided to wake up and open the door on me. Fortunately, I was almost done. I was just pulling my shirt over my tank top, but that didn't stop me from throwing my pj top in his face and telling him to get out.

"Hey, hey! No need to throw things in my awesome face. You don't want to break anything, do you?" Prussia grumbled. He was still too drowsy to realize that I was getting dressed, so I used that for the better.

"Put it in the laundry basket," I told him. "It's behind you."

"Okay." Prussia stumbled over to the laundry basket and dropped the shirt inside. I used the time that his back was facing me to finish putting my shirt on.

"Okay, I'm on my way to work. Don't cook, set anything on fire, make noise, go on the balcony, or leave the apartment. If you do, you will never see the light of day again, and neither will I. If someone walks in, then pretend you are our boyfriends or something. _Not_ countries. Also, if another on for comes in while we are gone, then make sure they follow the rules, and don't enter Lara's room!" I instructed as I slipped out the door.

"The hero will do his duty and follow your orders!" America grinned while Prussia nodded. Romano was still asleep on the floor.

I snapped a picture of the Italian. "I'll use this for blackmail if he causes trouble."

"Awesome," Prussia snickered.

I smiled and closed the door behind me. As I was locking it, I prayed that it was not the thump of a newcomer that I heard.


	5. Chapter 4: Ćerima – The Kitchen Fire

_**Chapter Four: Ćerima – The (almost) Kitchen Fire**_

I had gotten exactly no sleep the night that Prussia came along. Not only had I been kicked out of my room by a certain hamburger-loving American, but the next thing I knew, Maria had claimed the couch for herself when Prussia did the same to her. I spent my night lying on the floor of the kitchen, listening to Romano talk in his sleep and trying to find a way to send them all back. I do not think anyone noticed my lack of sleep – that is, until I nearly passed out at the counter just an hour after my lunch break. Maybe that is why my manager sent me home an hour early with two orders of chicken.

As I strode off of the chilly streets and into the lobby of our apartment complex, I glanced up at the old clock hanging above the reception desk. 2:38. _Maria will be coming home soon,_ I thought as the elevator lifted me up to the fourth floor. It was quiet; he complex was always dead silent before 3pm, with all of its occupants away at school or work for most of the year. I always felt like I was being watched when I came home early, and this time was no exception.

"I am home," I called as I attempted to unlock the door, balancing two full trays of chicken in one arm. The smell of smoke hit my nose before I could see anything. "What are you three do –" I froze in the doorway.

There was some sort of tussle going on in the kitchen, between America and someone I did not recognize. There was a plate of what appeared to be dark rocks between them; America was trying to shove them into the trash can, while the other was holding the sides of the plate and refusing to let the scones – _Is that what they are?_ – go to waste. Insults were flying: cow-killer, tea-chugger, diabetic, punk, even a couple that I refuse to say for the sake of the younger audience hearing this story. Meanwhile, Prussia and Romano were standing back, cheering them on as if they had nothing better to do. It looked like they were making bets too. After a few seconds of me watching them, they finally turned toward me, eyes wide with surprise.

The stranger had messy blonde hair and emerald-green eyes.

Suddenly, I was in a flashback. I was seeing the first time that Maria showed us her Hetalia manga. We were picking favorites, admiring the way they were drawn, imagining how we ourselves would appear had we been in the manga with them. Maria's favorite had always been Prussia. Mine was England.

_Holy Roman Empire._

"Hi, Ćerima!" America flashed me a cheese grin and comically waved his hand in my direction. He pointed sharply at the newcomer. "He failed at cooking."

The blonde growled, setting America in a headlock before he could do anything about it. "I did not –" As if just realizing I was in the room, he threw his arm off of America and straightened his collar, turning his attention to me. "I'm sorry, miss. I was unaware that there were women living here as well." He smiled slightly and extended a hand toward me. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, although I'm known as England."

Hearing that made me squeal on the inside. I knew who he was, but I did not let it show. "I am Ćerima. Ćerima Zivkovic. I sort of own the apartment, since my name is on the deed." I placed the trays on the coffee table.

Instantly, America flew to the chicken. "Ooh! Wha's that?"

"Not yours." England's response was so sudden and simple that I could not help but chuckle. "So, Miss Zivkovic –"

"Ćerima," I insisted, half-collapsing on the couch. "Just Ćerima."

"Alright. Ćerima. I've heard that you're not the only one who lives here. Is that so?"

I spent a while explaining our situation to him, from my sisters' jobs to the incident with America jumping through the bathroom mirror. The best part was, England didn't interrupt. He seemed to be truly listening. I did not know how much time had passed until Maria and Lara returned. By then, it was about 5pm.

The moment England walked off to lecture America about something or other, Lara and Maria strode up to me, knowing smirks plastered onto their faces. "Someone has a crush~ Someone has a crush~"

"I do not!" I tried with all my strength to keep my cheeks from coloring pink. "Why would you possibly think that?"

Maria put a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down – though being as short as she was, it did not have the same effect. "It's okay, Ćerima. It's normal to like someone at this age…"

Rolling my eyes, I slapped off her hand. "Yes, yes. …Do you still have a paper you have to finish?"

"Oh yeah!" Without another word, Maria darted off to her room, grabbing a pencil from the coffee table as she went. As for Lara, she just winked and skipped away, leaving me with a roomful of nations.

-x-

After dinner, I told Lara that I would run out and buy a few things. She didn't object; rather, she gave me a list of items to get from the local pharmacy. But I did not. Instead, I did what I often do when the stress of my life got to me. I turned away from the elevator once I reached it and pushed my way onto the fire escape, a black metal stairwell with spindly handrails and rusty steps leading downward toward the ground. It was not much, and the view was horrible, but I liked it.

I settled down on the fourth floor landing and laid back against the steps, staring past the shadowed walls of buildings at the sky above. There were no stars out tonight – as was usual for NYC – but the moon was full, radiating light down into the cloudless night. The scene was comforting to me. It reminded me of times like this I used to spend with my mother in Nashville…

"Ćerima?"

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, England was kneeling beside me, confusion and worry in his eyes. I could not tell if the moon had moved since I last saw it. _How long was I out?_ Startled, I sat up, blinking a few times to get used to being awake again. "Oh, M-Mr. England."

England smirked, noticing my flustered expression. "Just England."

He was using my own words against me – sort of. I turned away, feeling heat in my cheeks. They were probably red by then. "…Oh. Yes, of course. England." I stammered, "S-so, did you need something?"

"No, I was just…" England trailed off, his gaze moving to my shoulders and bare arms. "Why aren't you wearing a jacket? It's chilly out here." Before I could argue, he was pulling his arms from the sleeves of his own jacket and holding out to me. His eyes were on the moon, as if the gesture meant nothing. I knew better.

I took it from his grasp and wrapped the warm fabric around by shoulders. I had not even realized I was cold. "…Thank you."

"It's nothing. You don't need to be freezing to death any time soon." He turned my way again, and our eyes locked. For some reason, I could not look away. "What are you doing out here? I thought you left for the pharmacy twenty minutes ago."

With a tired sigh, I closed my eyes, a wave of exhaustion falling over me. "Well…I was never going to in the first place."

About ten minutes later, he knew everything. He knew how much we worked to earn what little we had. He knew that we were nearly in debt to our landlord – for the second time. He knew how much we missed out parents, even though we rarely show it. By the end of my story (rant is more like it), I could not decide whether to cry or pass out on the spot.

"Lara's birthday is next week," I added after a moment of silence, feeling his green-eyed gaze pinning me down. "When America came and ate all of our ice cream… I was saving it for Lara."

My shoulder felt warmer; a chill ran down my spine. I knew that if I saw his hand on my arm, I would certainly burst into tears. I did not look.

"You're stressed, I know. It's hard having to grow up so soon." England cleared his throat before continuing. "Look, I can't do much in this situation, but I'll do whatever I can to help. …Since we would have nowhere else to live if you got evicted. Besides, I think America likes you."

_America?_ The thought was laughable. _He would never like me. Not in a million years. _I glanced down at my watch. 9:26. Lara and Maria would begin worrying about me soon. "…I have to go."

England was trying to hold back his surprise when I threw his jacket back to him. "Good. You need sleep, love. It will make you feel better."

I am sure I seemed suspicious when I returned to the apartment with empty hands, sat down on the couch, and instantly fell asleep. But that did not matter to me. My mind was busy trying to find out if I was dreaming when England called me _love_.

I thought I heard the door open and close sometime while I was asleep.


End file.
